St Bart's
by spaceman-earthgirl
Summary: Instead of meeting in the morgue at St Bart's, Sherlock and John meet after Sherlock ends up in the hospital and John is his doctor. An alternative beginning to A Study in Pink. Johnlock.
1. Chapter 1

AN: I had this idea and just had to write it down. It's a little different from what I usually write so I hope you like it. Let me know what you think.

Telling Your Family is still in progress for anyone who's interested.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the characters. They belong to BBC and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

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The tedium of hospital work always made John Watson miss the war. Admittedly there were some interesting cases that would show up but mostly it was just more of the same day in and day out. John had been an Army doctor in Afghanistan so this, in comparison, was dull and boring. He had been invalided home due to being shot and, since then, life back in London had been one dark day after the next; no light at the end of the long and tiring journey that was now his life. He had only taken the job at St Bartholomew's Hospital to try to stop the endless boredom.

That all changed when a man arrived, by ambulance, at the hospital with a sword sticking through his shoulder. Apparently, he had even been stabbed by someone who was dressed like a knight. That alone intrigued John about the strange man who had now taken residence in one of the wards. He must have been important since there were guards posted outside his room(he'd heard he wasn't a criminal which had been his first thought). They had tried to transfer him to a private facility but the strange man had refused.

Doctor Watson was now on his way to the second floor of B wing to visit his patient. The man had been operated on for most of the night and was now in one of the recovery wards having had been stitched up and was no longer in critical.

He made his way to the second floor and found himself standing in front of room 21, the sign on the door reading 221B. He knew he was at the right room as two people, dressed in black and wearing sunglasses, were standing on either side of the door. John entered the room, leaning heavily on his cane as he walked. He made his way over to the end of his patient's bed and picked up his chart, unaware of the eyes that were now fixed on him. The patients name read Sherlock Holmes.

Sherlock looked up as someone entered his room. The first thing Sherlock noticed was the cane in the man's hand and he spent the next few seconds cataloguing all his observations and deductions about the man that stood in front of him.

"Afghanistan or Iraq?" Sherlock asked, getting a confused and somewhat surprised look from his doctor.

"Sorry?"

"Which was it, Afghanistan or Iraq?"

"Afghanistan...sorry, how did you know?" replied John, now even more curious about the man that lay in front of him.

Sherlock just smirked in response and, through the surprise and confusion, Sherlock could see John looked slightly impressed by however Sherlock had figured out his past. Sherlock felt the need to impress him again but he didn't get the chance as, when Sherlock hadn't immediately responded, the doctor had continued.

"I'm Doctor John Watson and I'll be your doctor while you're here. How's your shoulder feeling?" asked John, as he approached the side of the bed.

Sherlock felt his heart rate increase as John arrived at the side of the bed but he had no idea why. John glanced curiously at the heart monitor which had started to beep more quickly. He checked it and everything seemed to be working fine so he went back to examining his patient.

"My shoulder's fine but when can I go? I have experiments that are going to expire and I'm bored," said Sherlock, looking expectantly at the Doctor by his bed.

"Mr Holmes, you will have to stay in bed for at least a week before we can discharge you incase complications arise," replied John and he almost stepped back in response to the glare he was now receiving from Sherlock, but he stood his ground.

"But it's so boring in here!" Sherlock pouted, making him look like an oversized child, "and don't call me Mr Holmes, it makes me sound like my brother".

John just shook his head at the petulant man and chuckled, which surprised Sherlock; people didn't usually react to him this way. This intrigued Sherlock and he glanced up at John curiously.

John was confused by the look Sherlock was now giving him and was about to respond when someone came into the room behind him.

"I'm sorry doctor, we need you down the hall, it's Mrs Peterson again," said a nurse, holding a clipboard out to the doctor.

"Right, thank you Holly, I'll be there in a minute," replied John, smiling politely as the nurse left.

"Alright, Sherlock," said John, emphasizing his name because of his response to being called Mr Holmes before, "I'll be back tomorrow, get plenty of rest and you'll be out of here before you know it."

He smiled at Sherlock before he turned around and left, leaving Sherlock alone in the room once again.

_John Watson_, thought Sherlock, this man intrigued him. This man with the psychosomatic limp(obvious from the way he had been standing). He seemed to be very unhappy with his life but was good at hiding it, but Sherlock had seen straight through his act. The smile that he had given Sherlock before he left was genuine though, which surprised Sherlock, having seen his fake one towards the nurse that had called him away. He stored that away in his mind palace to think about later. He also stored away his reaction to John's close proximity, the increase in his heart rate. John had even looked impressed after one of Sherlock's deductions and Sherlock found he wanted to impress him again.

He now found himself sitting in bed, considerably less bored than before. He had a lot to occupy his mind now, trying to figure out the mystery that he now found in John Watson. Strangely, he noted, he now wasn't anticipating leaving this place but the next time he got to see John again.

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AN: Next chapter, Sherlock vanishes from his room leaving John to find him. Thanks for reading and reviews are much appreciated.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Sorry this has taken me so long to get up, I've had exams and assignments to get done, but updates are going to be more frequent from now on.

Thanks to everyone that read/reviewed/favourited/alerted this fic. I hope you like this chapter and let me know what you think :)

Thanks to my friend dapperyklutz for helping me get this chapter written

Telling Your Family is still in progress for anyone who's interested and will be updated soon.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the characters. They belong to BBC and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

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John arrived at the hospital early the next morning, an hour before his shift. He tried to spend as little time as possible where he was currently living; it just reminded him of how boring his life was. This meant he spent most of his time at the hospital, even occasionally falling asleep in his office. He hardly got any sleep as he was still plagued by nightmares from Afghanistan.

He dumped his bag on the floor, sat behind his desk and opened his laptop. He spent the next five minutes staring at the blank page of his blog in front of him before giving up when he realized he had nothing to write. His therapist had suggested writing a blog about everything that happened to him as it would help him adjust to civilian life but, he thought back to their conversation, "_nothing happens to me_." His mind wandered to Sherlock Holmes then, the strange man in 221B. _Maybe things are finally going to change around here_, he thought.

His thoughts were interrupted by his phone vibrating on the desk. He glanced at the caller ID, recognizing it as a hospital number.

"Hello, Doctor Watson speaking."

"Doctor Watson," came an extremely distressed voice from the other end, "we need you to come in immediately, one of your patients is missing."

This was odd. Usually, if a patient went missing, he would receive a call informing him of the fact, not be called into the hospital himself. His mind immediately flicked back to Sherlock. He seemed to be someone of importance so maybe this was something to do with him?

"I'm already in my office, what is it?" asked John, concerned as he cared for all his patients and any of them missing was a bad thing.

"Sherlock Holmes, he's vanished from his room and no one can seem to find him. You wouldn't know where he could be, do you?" she replied, the panic evident in her voice.

This man was obviously someone important now and someone must be putting pressure on the staff to find him. Perhaps it was the brother Sherlock had mentioned yesterday.

"No sorry, but I'll go and have a look in his room, maybe he left behind some sort of clue to his whereabouts."

"Okay, thank you," and the nurse quickly disconnected the call.

John wondered whether anyone had already checked his room for clues, it seemed like the first logical step in finding him. It was too late now anyway, he'd already gotten up and was one his way out the door, cane in hand.

He nodded to the two guards still stationed outside Sherlock's room as he entered. He didn't know why they weren't out looking but that thought left his mind as he came to a halt at what he saw in the room.

"Right on time," said Sherlock, who was currently lying in his bed as if half the hospital wasn't frantically searching for him.

"But…I….you…." John replied, his confusion making it impossible for him to form a coherent sentence.

Sherlock just smirked, staring amusedly at the bemused look on John's face. He knew exactly what time John would arrive at the hospital that morning and then how long it would take him to get to room 221B after being called to help find him. Sherlock had been bored in the early hours of the morning and ended up in the morgue with the pathologist there, Molly Hooper, who had been working late. He had made sure he was back in time for John to enter his room and find him though; he had wanted to see this man again. The look on John's face had been just as entertaining as he'd expected.

"Where have you been? You've had half the staff out looking for you!"

Sherlock just continued smirking at John.

"And how did you even get out of the room with the guards at the door?" asked John, curiosity getting the best of him.

He looked around trying to see if there was another way out besides the door and only saw a window. Surely he hadn't climbed out the window, not with his injury, thought John, gaze returning to the man lying in front of him again.

"Of course I didn't climb out the window, don't be ridiculous John, even you're smarter than that," replied Sherlock.

It took John a moment to realize that Sherlock had just called him John, not Doctor Watson like everyone else. It took him a little while longer to realize that Sherlock had just complimented him as well, well sort of. He smiled down at Sherlock then, forgetting the worry he had felt before and the fact that Sherlock had had half the hospital out searching for him.

"Fine, just don't vanish again, you need to rest. I need to take a look at your shoulder to check you haven't done any damage," said John, moving closer to Sherlock's bed.

This time Sherlock was expecting the increased heart rate and he'd been prepared. Last night, he had gotten bored and tampered with the monitor so his heart rate would appear to remain constant even if his heart was banging around in his chest.

Sherlock unbuttoned the top half of his shirt and slide the material off his shoulder so John could check his stitches were still intact.

John felt his own heart begin to hammer at the sight of Sherlock's slightly exposed chest which only confused him as he was one hundred percent straight, or so he had thought before meeting Sherlock.

He quickly pushed that thought from his mind and began checking Sherlock's stitches.

Sherlock felt John's hands ghosting over his shoulder, barely touching him but making his skin tingle wherever he did.

Sherlock's stitches were still in place and the wound seemed to be healing nicely but John couldn't ignore the tingling sensation he felt as his hands lightly touched Sherlock's skin. It sent a warm thrill through his body.

Sherlock was buttoning up his shirt again when a lady came in carrying a tray of food, Sherlock's breakfast. She placed in to the table beside him and then promptly left the room, nodding to John on her way out.

Sherlock turned his nose up at the food and pushed it away; he still had a day or so left before he'd need to eat again.

"You're not going to eat that?" asked John, noticing Sherlock's reaction.

"No, I'm not hungry."

"Sherlock, you have to at least eat something."

"What day is it?"

"It's Wednesday."

"I'm okay for a bit," said Sherlock, realizing too late that that was something you probably shouldn't say to your doctor.

"When was the last time you ate? For God's sake, you need to eat! " replied John, now looking very concerned.

"No, you need to eat, I need to think. The brain's what counts, everything else is transport."

"No, Sherlock, you're shoulder's not going to heal if you starve yourself, now I'm not leaving until you've eaten something," stated John, giving Sherlock a stern look.

Sherlock's petulant side returned as he stubbornly said no to the doctor's command.

"Just one piece of toast Sherlock, that's all I'm asking."

John stood by Sherlock's bed for several minutes, staring expectantly at Sherlock before Sherlock finally relented. Mumbling to himself, he reached over and picked up a piece of toast. Sherlock shot an angry look at John but took a bite of the toast, chewing and swallowing.

"Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" said John, smiling down at Sherlock who was taking another bite.

It didn't take him long to finish his piece of toast and John had waited to make sure he actually ate it.

"Thank you," he said, still smiling, "and get some rest, I'll be back this afternoon to check on you again."

Sherlock smiled back as John left the room and was glad to see that he looked happier than he did yesterday. He was still smiling when his phone started vibrating on the table beside him. He reached over with his good arm and groaned when he saw the text.

_We need to talk, I'll be by your room later – MH_

His good mood from seeing John vanished as he read the text. Wasn't it enough that his brother was making him stay in the hospital, now he was coming to visit him and they were going to talk? He groaned again, suddenly his day wasn't looking so good. At least, thought Sherlock, he still had seeing John again to look forward to.

For now, all he could do was sit and wait (_how dull,_ thought Sherlock) for his brother to arrive. He could easily leave again but John was coming back later and he didn't want to miss seeing him. Sherlock didn't know what was happening to him, with this man increasingly filling his thoughts. Sherlock's mind wandered back to the tingling sensation he had felt when John had touched his shoulder and he was absolutely shocked when he figured out what that meant.

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AN: I hope you enjoyed it. Next chapter John is going to get to meet Mycroft and Lestrade is going to pay a visit to Sherlock as well. Thanks for reading and reviews are much appreciated.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Sorry this took me longer than expected to get finished but here's the third chapter and I'll get the next one posted as soon as I can.

Thanks to everyone that read/reviewed/favourited/alerted this fic. I hope you like this chapter and let me know what you think :)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the characters. They belong to BBC and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

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John returned to his office to wait for the start of his shift, grabbing a cup of tea on the way. He couldn't keep his thoughts away from the mysterious Sherlock Holmes. The man hardly seemed to eat, from his wanderings around the hospital he didn't sleep, and had somehow managed to escape his guarded room. He knew there was something different about this man, he obviously had an above average intelligence and John couldn't help wanting to know more. John knew he wouldn't be able to get this strange man of his mind, he'd just have to wait patiently until the afternoon when he'd see him again. He hadn't put much thought into what he was feeling for Sherlock, he's pushed all these new feelings to the back of his mind. He knew he'd have to think about it sometime, but for now, he'd just deny his attraction to the frankly gorgeous Sherlock Holmes.

**XoXoX**

Sherlock was so deep in his mind palace that he didn't notice the nurse place his lunch in front of him. He'd spent the last few hours reorganizing his palace, creating a special room to be filled with all things John related. He was brought back to reality by a terrifying noise, one that made him groan every time he heard it because it could mean only one thing, his brother was nearby. The unmistakable sound of an umbrella hitting the floor echoed in the corridor outside his room. He looked up just in to see the tall form of his brother entering his room, aforementioned umbrella held tightly in his hand.

"Good afternoon brother," Mycroft said in greeting, smirking at his younger brother lying in bed.

"What are you doing here, Mycroft?" replied Sherlock, already looking forward to when his brother would leave, the sooner the better.

"I'm here to talk to you about…" before Mycroft could continue he was interrupted by someone coming through the door.

"Sorry, I hope I'm not interrupting," said Detective Inspector Lestrade, who was holding an armful of files.

"No, of course not Gregory, come in," replied Mycroft, _always polite_, thought Sherlock.

"Hey Sherlock, how are you feeling? We still haven't caught the guy that stabbed you but I thought some old cold cases might cheer you up," said the DI, placing the files on the small table beside the bed.

Sherlock's only response was a grunt which Lestrade took as thanks.

"Sorry, I've got to get back to work but text me if you solve any of them," he said, gesturing towards the pile of files and smiling at the consulting detective lying on the bed, "I'll bring more cases over later in the week if you solve all the ones I've just given you."

Of course Sherlock would solve all the cases Lestrade had just brought him, Scotland Yard was incompetent but he kept his insults to himself. Sherlock knew better than to insult Lestrade in Mycroft's presence, last time he had done so Mycroft had not let him work on cases for a month. Lestrade and Mycroft had been dating for almost a year now and Mycroft was very protective and so now Sherlock could only insult Lestrade when he knew big brother wasn't watching.

Sherlock just nodded in response to Lestrade's statement and he turned to leave. On the way out Lestrade stopped in front of Mycroft and leant up and placed a soft kiss on his lips.

"I'll see you at dinner, love," he said to a smiling Mycroft, and then he was gone.

"Oh come on, that's revolting," said Sherlock, as Mycroft turned his attention back to him, "do you have to do that in front of me? It's bad enough I can tell what you two do when you're alone, I don't want to have to see it too!"

"Oh grow up Sherlock," replied Mycroft, shaking his head at his childish younger brother, "Now back to the reason I'm here for. "

"Before you start on your boring little speech about how I shouldn't have left my room, I want you to know that there will be payback for placing me in this particular room," said Sherlock, giving Mycroft his best glare.

"Whatever are you talking about Sherlock?" replied Mycroft in mock confusion, he knew full well what his brother was referring to.

"The room number Mycroft, 221B, did you think I wouldn't notice. This was just your way of reminding me that I wasn't back at Baker Street but stuck here where I couldn't leave and you were having me constantly watched," said Sherlock, still glaring at his brother.

"You are always being watched Sherlock, you should know that by now," the hint of a smirk present on Mycroft's face.

"Of course I know that but at least I'm not usually guarded 24/7. You should fire the guards by the way, they didn't even notice I was missing," said Sherlock, gesturing towards the door where the guards were still standing, probably listening to their conversation and now fearing for their jobs.

"Back to what I was originally saying, you can't just leave like that Sherlock, you were stabbed, you need to rest. Despite what you think brother, I do care for you and you will not be leaving this room again until you are discharged or there will be consequences," Mycroft's face had now returned to the serious expression it usually wore.

"Consequences?" asked Sherlock, the glare turning into a smirk.

"I'll get Gregory to keep you off cases for a month," said Mycroft, a hint of a smile on his face.

"Gregory?" inquired Sherlock, "Oh, you mean Lestrade. Wait, you can't do that!"

"Oh but I can Sherlock, you know I can and so you will behave until you are better or there'll be no cases for a month," Mycroft knew that Sherlock's one weakness was cases and maybe this time it'd be enough to get him to behave.

Sherlock was about to reply when a nurse came bustling into the room.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt but I need to change your bandages before the doctor arrives," said the nurse.

She moved in beside Sherlock and he noticed the difference between proximity to the young, some would say pretty, nurse compared to being close to John, namely no increase in heart rate and no reaction when she touched his skin. This was the proof that Sherlock needed that these reactions were specific to John's touch and no one else's.

As she was finishing changing his bandages, Sherlock had an idea and he knew it would annoy Mycroft, so of course he did it. He'd already upset the lady who brought him his breakfast this morning with his deductions which Mycroft undoubtedly already knew. Maybe he could be kicked out of the hospital if he upset enough people. He knew this idea was unlikely to work, especially with Mycroft's power from being the British government, but it would still be entertaining to see the look on Mycroft's face as he deduced and embarrassed the poor girl, for which she was the perfect candidate. He smiled up at the nurse then glanced at his brother and before Mycroft could react, Mycroft knew what that look meant, Sherlock began his deductions.

"You're rushing changing the bandages not just because Dr. Watson will be here soon but because you have a date, and not with your husband, but with one of the other doctors in this hospital. Your husband knows about the affair by the way, he's just keeping quiet thinking you will stop, plus he's sleeping with your best friend, which you didn't know judging by the look on your face. Now you've just remembered something and what I've said makes sense. You now want to rush home and confront your husband which won't end well when he says he knows you've been unfaithful too. You'll spend about 6 months trying to work things out between the two of you but it won't work and you'll end up divorced. He'll start dating your friend but you'll end up alone and the doctor will have become bored with you by then and started dating some other nurses, you're not the only one he is currently seeing either."

The nurse looked as if she was about to explode and Sherlock feared he would be hit but she turned around, red-faced and stormed out of the room. Sherlock had a smirk on his face that grew even bigger when he saw the livid look on his brother's face. Mycroft was the one that was going to have to answer for Sherlock's actions, whatever they were, as it had been Mycroft who was getting Sherlock special treatment in the hospital in the first place.

Sherlock looked up as John entered the room and groaned internally. First of all, he had just seen Sherlock upset a woman which John wouldn't have been pleased with, no matter the circumstances. Secondly, Mycroft was still here and he'd definitely not wanted these two to meet. Sherlock was afraid Mycroft would scare John off which was not something that Sherlock wanted to happen.

**XoXoX**

John was making his way towards room 221B when he saw a very red-faced, angry nurse come storming out of Sherlock's room. John could only imagine what Sherlock had said to upset the poor girl. He walked into the room and stopped short we he saw that Sherlock wasn't alone. It sounded as if Sherlock was being told off by the man with him for whatever he had said to the nurse.

Sherlock smiled when he saw John standing in the doorway and John returned the smile warmly.

"Sorry, I don't mean to interrupt, I've just come to check on Sherlock," said John as he limped into the room and picked up Sherlock's chart.

"You're not, my brother was just leaving," replied Sherlock.

"So you're the brother Sherlock mentioned yesterday. Hi, I'm Dr. Watson, Sherlock's doctor, it's nice to meet you," said John, holding his hand out in greeting.

Sherlock thought back to their previous conversations, trying to figure out what he'd said about his older brother. The words _"__don't call me Mr Holmes, it makes me sound like my brother"_ came back to him and that was the only time he recalled mentioning Mycroft.

"Mycroft Holmes, the pleasure is all mine, Dr. Watson," replied Mycroft, shaking the doctor's outstretched hand with a fake smile plastered on his face.

John knew the smile was fake but smiled back anyway. John turned his attention back to Sherlock's chart which he had to pick back up again after shaking Mycroft's hand. It was then that John noticed the untouched lunch that was sitting on the table beside Sherlock.

"You haven't eaten any lunch," said John, gesturing to the full plate of food.

"Of course not, I've already eaten today," replied Sherlock.

"You ate a piece of toast, you have to eat more than that in a day."

"I've told you already John, I need to think, eating slows me down."

"Sherlock, we've had this discussion already today and you are going to eat that sandwich right now," said John, knowing he'd won by the look on the detective's face.

"Fine, but only I'll only eat half of it," countered Sherlock, taking this small victory when John smiled and nodded, John was just happy he was eating.

For some reason Sherlock found it rather difficult to say no to John, especially with the look that had just been present on John's face; It was the look of someone who cared.

Mycroft stood back watching the whole conversation and he was dumbfounded that this seemingly ordinary man could get Sherlock to eat. He'd never seen anyone interact with Sherlock in this way before and he made a note to himself to kidnap John in the near future to see if he could discover more about him. Mycroft had handpicked Dr. Watson to be Sherlock's doctor as he was the best the hospital had to offer but he didn't think that they would get on this well.

"Sherlock, I have to go now, I've got a meeting, but don't forget what I said. It was a pleasure meeting you Dr. Watson," said Mycroft, and he turned and left, umbrella still firmly grasped in his hand.

Once Mycroft had left, John turned his attention back to his patient. He checked his bandages which resulted in the same tingling sensation whenever his fingers came into contact with Sherlock's exposed skin. John stored these thoughts and feelings in a special corner in the back of his mind with the rest of his Sherlock related thoughts. It was getting harder and harder to ignore this ever growing pile of thoughts but he'd save thinking about them until later, right now he'd rather focus on Sherlock lying in front of him.

John made sure Sherlock wasn't in too much pain from his injury and told him he was going to be back at dinner time to make sure he ate something and then he was gone.

Sherlock, for the first time in as long as he can remember, found himself actually looking forward to dinner time but it wasn't because of the food.

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AN: I hope you enjoyed it. Next chapter is John and Sherlock plus Molly may make an appearance. Thanks for reading and reviews are much appreciated.


	4. Chapter 4

AN: Sorry for the length of this chapter but I'll try get the next one posted when I can, I've been rather busy with university sorry.

And Molly was going to be in this one but she will now be in the next chapter due to the length of this one :)

Thanks to everyone that read/reviewed/favourited/alerted this fic. Let me know what you think :)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the characters. They belong to BBC and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

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At dinner time, John made his way to Sherlock's room. He'd already been and got his own tray of food from downstairs and retrieved Sherlock's from a thankful nurse who would no longer have to go into Sherlock's room. Luckily he only had to carry the two trays a short distance as he had them balanced precariously on one arm due to his cane in the other.

He greeted Sherlock with a smile as he entered the room and John felt his heart fill with warmth as he saw the expression mirrored on Sherlock's face.

All Sherlock could think was how glad he was that he'd tampered with the heart monitor as his heart was hammering so fast that he was sure that John must've be able to hear it. This was the reaction he now associated with John and John alone; he had never felt like this around anyone else before.

John took a seat next to Sherlock after having placed Sherlock's tray in front of him. Sherlock screwed up his face at the food in front of him but one look at John told him there would be no argument. He took a tentative bite of the food. He'd have a few mouthfuls, if it was for John he would.

"How was the rest of your day?" asked John, trying to make conversation. It dawned on him now that he'd never actually had a proper conversation with this man.

"Boring, I solved all the cold cases Lestrade gave me in under an hour so he's going to bring more in tomorrow," replied Sherlock.

"Lestrade?" asked John, maybe Sherlock wasn't as much of a loner as he appeared to be.

"He's a detective. I work with him at Scotland Yard, solving all the crimes the incompetent detectives there can't," said Sherlock, with a supercilious look on his face. He could now freely insult Lestrade and his team as Mycroft wasn't present.

"So you're like a proper detective then?" asked John, even more intrigued by this man.

"Consulting detective, only one in the world, I invented the job," replied Sherlock, sounding proud of his job.

"What does that mean?" asked John.

"It means when the police are out of their depth, with is always, they consult me," said Sherlock.

"Not modest then are you?" replied John, chuckling in response.

Sherlock chuckled in return; he found it surprisingly easy to talk to John. Usually as soon as Sherlock opened his mouth, people instantly disliked him, but not John, John was still here talking to him. He was still trying to figure out John, every time he thought he'd figured him out he'd do something that changed his mind. Bringing Sherlock his dinner, then staying to eat with him was an example of this confusing behaviour. Sherlock knew John was a doctor and therefore, was concerned about his health but John was here, talking to him while he was eating; they were having dinner together.

A thought suddenly occurred to Sherlock, he'd soon be released from hospital and that meant not seeing John every day. He'd only been in hospital for one night and already he felt an unfamiliar jolt in his chest as he realized that this was only temporary, seeing John every day, eating with John, talking to John.

He pushed the thought from his mind to think about later, when he'd formulate a plan that would involve seeing John much more frequently, even if only for the next few days but he'd find a way to make it more than that.

Sherlock knew that eventually John would come to the conclusion that he wasn't the sort of person that he wanted to be around but until then Sherlock wanted to spend as much time with the man as he could. Sherlock was determined to find out as much as he could about his doctor, why he found John so fascinating and why John was the first person to treat him as if he wasn't a freak.

They spent the next hour talking, well mostly John talking and Sherlock listening intently, storing every piece of new information in his palace in the room he now called _John's Room._

John had to get back to work but as he left he grinned widely at Sherlock and Sherlock didn't even bother trying to stop the grin that formed on his face in return. He couldn't help feeling that maybe he'd finally found a friend, a friend he just happened to be attracted to.

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AN: I hope you enjoyed it. Next chapter will actually include Molly this time and will also include more of Sherlock being Sherlock. Thanks for reading and reviews are much appreciated.


	5. Chapter 5

AN: Sorry for the length of this chapter again but I wanted to give you something so I wrote this quickly. The next chapter will be longer and will be up soon as I'm not very busy with university at the moment and I'm sorry for the wait since the last update, next one will definitely not be that long :)

Thanks to everyone that read/reviewed/favourited/alerted this fic. Let me know what you think :)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the characters. They belong to BBC and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

* * *

John got a text early the next morning informing him Sherlock had disappeared again. He made his way to room 221B as quickly as his cane would allow. John feared that Sherlock may have vanished for good this time and was relieved, and a little angry, when he saw Sherlock sitting in bed with a grin on his face.

"What brings you here so early John?" asked Sherlock, that infuriating grin still on his face.

"Sherlock, you can't just keep leaving your room like that, you're supposed to be recovering, not making your injury worse," said John, sighing exasperatedly.

Just then Sherlock's phone vibrated indicating that he had received a text. Sherlock chuckled as he opened and read the message.

_No cases for a month - MH_

"What's so funny?" asked John, more interested in Sherlock's laugh than what he was actually laughing about; the sound sent electricity down John's spine.

"My brother, he says I'm not allowed on any cases for a month", explained Sherlock, placing his phone back on the table.

"And why is that funny, I thought you loved working on cases?' asked John, confused, yet again, by Sherlock.

"I do," said Sherlock, "but my brother said if I leave my room again he would get Lestrade to keep me off cases for a month. I originally thought that might be enough of a threat to get me to stay in here but after some careful thought I realized that there is something more interesting that can occupy my time."

As Sherlock said this, his smile changed into a look John had never seen before. The look in Sherlock's eyes was so intense that John felt himself blushing under his gaze, although he wasn't entirely sure why.

John couldn't move his eyes from Sherlock's while he was trying to figure out what Sherlock meant by his previous words.

He doesn't know how long they were just staring at each other but John was brought back out of the bubble that seemed to have formed around him and Sherlock, making John forget that the rest of the world even existed, by a small voice coming from near the door.

"Hi…ahh…Sherlock, sorry did I interrupt, I just…ahh…Sherlock, you left you're riding crop in-" Sherlock cut the blushing girl off mid sentence.

"Ahh, thank you Molly," he said, indicating for the girl, Molly, to place it on the table beside him.

"You never told me you were in the hospital, I went to your flat but Mrs Hudson said that you were here," said Molly, seeming to gain confidence as she grew closer to Sherlock but her cheeks were still a dark red colour.

"It wasn't relevant," said Sherlock, as Molly placed the riding crop on the table.

"Oh, well...I-"

"Yes, thank you Molly," said Sherlock, cutting Molly off again, obviously dismissing the poor girl.

"I…ah…bye," said Molly, looking confused then she smiled shyly at Sherlock and turned to leave, nodding to John as she passed him and then she left.

John had been trying to figure out where he knew Molly from(and also why Sherlock had a riding crop but he could figure that one out later), she looked so familiar to him but he couldn't place how he knew her. Once Molly had left John turned to Sherlock and gave him a disapproving look.

"You know Sherlock, that was really quite rude, she was just being nice. Is that how you treat your friends?" said John.

"Yes I know it was rude John and Molly is more of an acquaintance than a friend" replied Sherlock, staring at John again but his gaze less intense this time.

"You do realise she has a massive crush on you?" asked John.

"Of course I realise John, look who you are talking to, and her crush on me, as you called it, is what helps me with my work."

"Wait, are you telling me that you use that poor woman's feelings for you to get her to help you with your job?" asked John, although he thought he already knew the answer he was going to get.

"Yes I do John, does that bother you?" replied Sherlock.

John was about to reply when a noise behind him distracted him. He turned to see a nurse entering the room carrying Sherlock's breakfast. John glanced down at his phone, noticing the time, while the nurse placed the breakfast on the table and hurried out of the room before Sherlock could make any comments about anything he'd deduced about her.

"I'm sorry Sherlock, I have to go to work, but I'll be back later during rounds. Make sure you eat something, I will be asking the nurses whether you do or not, and for the record it does bother me seeing you use that poor girl but for some reason it doesn't change my opinion of you. I'll see you later," said John quickly, he was gone from the room before Sherlock had a chance to reply.

Sherlock smiled to himself as he picked up a piece of toast and took a bite, he was glad he hadn't done anything to scare John away yet and he was hoping that he never would.

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AN: I hope you enjoyed it. Thanks for reading and reviews are much appreciated.


	6. Chapter 6

AN: I'm sorry this took me way longer than expected and it's not long like I said it would be, university got in the way :/ Next chapter most likely won't be until after my exams which are the beginning of November but I do promise a longer chapter then.

Thanks to everyone that read/reviewed/favourited/alerted this fic. Let me know what you think :)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the characters. They belong to BBC and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

* * *

Mrs Hudson came by to visit Sherlock just before lunch that day. She hadn't been told that Sherlock had been in the hospital so she'd been surprised and worried to come home after visiting her sister to find Sherlock's experiments going off in the kitchen and no sign of the detective. She had then called Mycroft who'd explained everything. She'd cleaned up the flat a bit (a potential flat mate for Sherlock was coming by later that afternoon to have a look at the flat) before she'd gone up to the hospital to visit Sherlock.

Of course she'd fussed about, making sure Sherlock was comfortable and checking if he needed anything. If it was anyone else he would've told them (rather rudely) to leave him alone but not Mrs Hudson, Mrs Hudson was special.

She sat there for several hours talking to Sherlock and he told her everything that had happened to him in the past few days. She was of course interested in how Sherlock had ended up in hospital and disappointed when Sherlock had informed her that the criminal hadn't been caught yet but it was when Sherlock mentioned John that she became really interested.

At first Mrs Hudson was confused when he started talking about John. She'd thought he was another patient in the hospital with him, especially after he mentioned the cane, so she was rather shocked when Sherlock had said that John was _"my doctor"_. She noticed the way he'd said _"my", _it wasn't how one normally referred to their doctor but more something that Sherlock owned, she'd never heard him speak like that before.

Sherlock was still talking about John when the nurse came in with his lunch. He continued talking as he picked up his sandwich and took a bite. Mrs Hudson audibly gasped at the sight before her, Sherlock was eating, and without anyone there to force him too. Being away for the past week, Mrs Hudson had been worried he would forget to eat altogether, but apparently that wasn't the case. She was about to question Sherlock about his eating when a doctor walked in. It didn't take her long to figure out that this was the doctor Sherlock had been talking about nonstop, and it was nothing to do with him having a cane; the look on Sherlock's face said it all.

"Hello dear, you must be John, Sherlock's told me all about you, I'm Mrs Hudson," said Mrs Hudson, getting up and giving the doctor a hug.

"It's nice to meet you," replied John, confused by the warm welcome and wondering what Sherlock must have said.

He was blushing so he quickly picked up Sherlock's chart so he would hide his red cheeks. He wasn't sure what it meant that Sherlock was talking about him to this woman, he'd obviously said good things about him judging by her reaction, but he was just happy that Sherlock was thinking about him.

Sherlock explained that the woman was his landlady, "not his housekeeper", she had interjected, and that she'd just got back from visiting her sister. John wasn't used to seeing anyone act like this around Sherlock and was glad to see he had someone in his life who cared for him (not counting his brother and the detective that visited him yesterday).

John put down Sherlock's chart and was moving to check his bandages when Mrs Hudson quickly stood, obviously realizing she was late for something and kissed Sherlock on the cheek before rushing out, promising she'd visit again soon. From what John could gather, she was late for a meeting with someone who was interested in renting the flat with Sherlock.

A crazy idea popped into John's head then, maybe he could rent the flat? He quickly pushed the thought to the back of his mind. Firstly, because he'd now realized how smart Sherlock actually was and he could probably figure out what he was thinking just by looking at him. Secondly, it was absolutely crazy to even be considering moving in with a patient, especially one he'd only met a couple of days ago.

Of course Sherlock had seen the look on John's face and couldn't believe he hadn't had that idea before; he keeps underestimating how smart John actually is. The idea is perfect, Sherlock needed a new flat mate and he knew that John needed a place to live. And if John were to move in with Sherlock then he'd get to see John all the time; his stomach did little flips at that thought. He now just had to figure out how to ask John to move in with him. He didn't want to scare John away and considering they'd only known each other a few days he'd have to devise a plan in which John couldn't possibly say no.

John finished checking Sherlock and promised he'd be back later that evening for dinner and then he was gone. Sherlock was now left with a few hours to think about the problem of how to get John to move in with him without scaring him off. They were just beginning to become friends and Sherlock didn't want to jeopardize that. Sherlock wasn't used to worrying about other people's feelings and from what he'd seen so far John had a lot of them. He'd have to be very careful what he did next if he wanted to remain friends and continue getting closer to John. This was going to be harder than he thought.

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AN: I hope you enjoyed it. Thanks for reading and review? Next chapter, John figures out where Sherlock has been sneaking off to each morning. Will he be able to persuade him not to any more?


	7. Chapter 7

AN: I'm so sorry for how long it's been since I last updated but I've been super busy with work and uni. I know I promised a long chapter but this was all I had time for at the moment(I wanted to give you guys something so you know I'm still planning to finish this). The long chapter is still coming(I finish work in 3 weeks so hopefully I can get it finished then).

I hope you guys like this chapter and more is on the way.

Thanks to everyone that read/reviewed/favourited/alerted this fic. Let me know what you think :)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the characters. They belong to BBC and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

* * *

John had visited Sherlock at dinner again last night where they had talked for over an hour before John had to leave. Sherlock realized he was now most happy whenever John was there. He was currently in the morgue working on an experiment but he eagerly anticipated returning to his room to see John.

**XoXoX**

John had arrived at work even earlier that morning and had been getting breakfast when he noticed the girl who had visited Sherlock the previous day getting some breakfast and two cups of coffee. The lab coat she was wearing made John realize where he knew her from; she was Molly Hooper, the pathologist that worked in the morgue at St Bart's. It didn't take long after John had realized who she was to figure out where Sherlock was going each morning. He looked at his watch, and assuming he'd still be there at this time of the morning (and that the second cup of coffee Molly had was for Sherlock) he decided to go and confront Sherlock and convince him not to leave his room again until he was healed.

**XoXoX**

Sherlock was busy examining an experiment he'd set up the previous morning when he heard someone come through the door behind him.

"Molly, what do you want now? I've got to finish this before John gets here," said Sherlock, assuming it was Molly behind him who'd just left after bringing him a cup of coffee but had returned after forgetting something in the lab.

John smiled when he heard his name and when Sherlock didn't turn around he decided to speak.

"Sherlock," said John, still smiling.

Sherlock was startled by the voice behind him, knowing instantly it was John and berating himself for being too focused on his experiment not to realize the person who had just walked through the door was obviously John.

He turned too quickly and then winced, grabbing his arm.

John quickly stepped forward after seeing that Sherlock had hurt himself, his doctor instincts kicking in.

"This is why you should be in bed resting Sherlock. You'll never get better if you don't rest and do you even sleep?" said John, placing his hand on Sherlock's arm and ignoring the tingling sensation the contact was giving him.

Sherlock looked down to where John's arm was touching his and was a little disappointed when John moved his hand away.

"But it's so boring," Sherlock whined, his petulant side showing again.

"Come on, back to your room now," said John, giving Sherlock a look that told him he meant business.

Sherlock had an idea, an idea that meant he'd get to spend even more time with John and even if it meant he couldn't come to the morgue to experiment any more it'd be worth it to spend more time with him.

"Fine, I'll go back to-" started Sherlock.

"Good," interrupted John.

"You didn't let me finish, I'll go back to my room but on one condition," said Sherlock, smirking at how wary John now looked.

"Sherlock, this isn't a compromise, you are going to go back to your room whether you want to or not."

Sherlock could tell John was serious but he wasn't going to back down; he was determined to get what he wanted, which of course was more time with John.

"You have to at least hear what the condition is before you say no," replied Sherlock.

"Sherlock, just tell me what you want so I can say no and you can get back to your room."

John was getting irritated now, he just wanted to get Sherlock back up to his room where he could rest and wouldn't hurt himself any more.

Sherlock hesitated then, thinking what if John did say no, what if John didn't want to spend more time with him. He hadn't really put much thought into how John was feeling, what John wanted. Sherlock had come to think of John as a friend because of how much time he was spending with him; no one had ever made an effort to actually get to know him before now. But what if John was just being so nice because he felt sorry for him?

"If I go back to my room now, you have to promise you'll still come and visit me every morning," said Sherlock, finally deciding to say what he'd been thinking and hope John said yes.

John, who had been trying to make Sherlock put down the equipment he was holding, stopped what he was doing and looked up at Sherlock, surprised at what he'd just heard. He was expecting Sherlock to want to be released early, or maybe want to conduct the experiments in his room instead but John didn't think it would have anything to do with him.

"Fine, I promise, now back to your room," said John, after recovering from realizing that Sherlock must want to spend time with if he was willing to sacrifice his experiments for him.

It was shortly after Sherlock returned to his room and John had left that Sherlock realized how much he'd come to care for his doctor. And it wasn't long after John had left Sherlock's room that he realized the exact same thing.

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AN: I hope you enjoyed it. Thanks for reading and please review (it honestly does help me write). Next chapter, Sherlock receives an unexpected visitor during the night.


	8. Chapter 8

As promised, a longer chapter. Next one will be on it's way soon.

**Warning:** Mentions of John's nightmares.

Thanks to everyone that read/reviewed/favourited/alerted this fic. Let me know what you think, it really does help my writing :)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the characters. They belong to BBC and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

* * *

After that, the day passed as normal with John coming to see Sherlock in the afternoon and then for dinner. It wasn't long after John had gone back to work in the evening when Sherlock received a text.

_We got him – GL_

_Got who? – SH_

_The man who stabbed you – GL_

_Honestly Lestrade, you need to be more specific than that – SH_

_The knight Sherlock, the guy who put you in the hospital – GL_

_Oh, I want to speak with him – SH_

_When you're out of the hospital you can – GL_

_Boring – SH_

The DI didn't reply after that.

Sherlock now had the long wait during the night until John would arrive in the morning. Usually he would pass this time doing experiments but since he could no longer do that he settled for retreating into his mind palace for the night; maybe he might actually get a few hours of sleep tonight.

It was in the early hours of the morning when a sound in the corridor outside made Sherlock turn towards the door. He wasn't sure if he'd actually fallen asleep or not but the sound had brought him back to the world around him.

It only took him a second to figure out what the noise was and who was making it; he just wasn't sure why he was hearing it now.

The sound was very distinctive and was getting closer to his room. He looked up as the source of the noise stopped at the door, illuminated only by the lighting from the hallway.

The guards outside his room were useless; obviously they were asleep therefore making it easy for anyone to get in or for Sherlock to get out of the room.

Sherlock leaned over and switched the lamp on beside his bed.

It was then that he saw the face of the person standing in front of him, tear-streaked and red.

"John…?" his voice trailed off, he didn't know what to do or say in this sort of situation.

He'd known it had been John in the corridor due to the distinctive sound of his cane on the floor; he hadn't expected John to be upset though.

"Sorry, I didn't know where else to go, I just didn't want to be alone," John replied, his voice shaking. It was then that Sherlock noticed that it wasn't just his voice shaking, but his whole body was as well.

"Do you want to sit down?" asked Sherlock, gesturing to the chair by his bed that John usually sat at during dinner.

Sherlock wasn't sure if what he'd said was right or not but he took it as a good sign that John had nodded at his question.

John limped forward, his limp a lot more pronounced than usual, and made his way towards the chair. Sherlock made to get up and help him but John held up his hand and signalled for Sherlock to stay where he was.

Once John was seated Sherlock didn't know what to do or say so he just sat and waited to see if John would speak. Sherlock knew what had happened, it wasn't hard to tell; John had had another nightmare. He'd fallen asleep at his desk judging by the wrinkles in his clothes and had been woken by a nightmare, probably something about the war. Sherlock could tell something was different this time though, something that didn't usually happen.

"You can talk to me about it, if you want," said Sherlock, hesitantly, unsure of how he was meant proceed and he didn't want to make it worse.

Sherlock figured John would speak if he wanted to so he didn't break the silence that followed.

They sat in silence for almost an hour as tears still silently spilled down John's cheeks. He finally looked up at Sherlock, wiping the tears from his eye and took a deep breath, preparing himself for what he was about to say.

"It was you," whispered John, his voice still shaky.

"What?"

"It was you, in my nightmare, it was you," replied John.

"What?" repeated Sherlock, it wasn't usual for him to be confused but he was now.

"I had a nightmare, I was back in the war, and it was you, it usually is just some random face, some random soldier but it was you. I couldn't save you, I tried but I couldn't, you died in my arms," said John, fresh tears running down his face.

So Sherlock had been correct about the nightmare part and the fact that something was different and while usually he would've felt good about being right, this time he found himself wishing that he was somehow wrong, he didn't like seeing John upset like this.

Before Sherlock knew what he was doing, he'd reached out and taken John's hand in his own and intertwined their fingers together. He looked down in shock at what he'd just done, his eyes widening slightly and he looked up, about to pull their hands apart when he caught the look on John's face. He'd looked just as shocked as Sherlock did but then a small smile had spread across his face. Their eyes connected then and Sherlock smiled back, glad he'd made John smile.

They lapsed into silence again and eventually fell asleep.

**XoXoX**

The first thing that Sherlock noticed when he woke the next morning was the unfamiliar warmth in his hand and the sound of soft breathing beside him. It was then that he remembered the events from the night before and that it was John's hand that he held in his.

John looked so peaceful like this, all evidence of him being upset a few hours earlier gone from his face. Sherlock was very careful not to disturb him so he could get some proper rest. Although Sherlock knew that John's back was going to be sore when he woke up, John had been exhausting himself with work and getting very little sleep due to the nightmares so Sherlock thought it was best to let him sleep while he could.

It was then that Sherlock noticed the tray of breakfast sitting beside his bed. He must've been rather tired as well to not have been woken by the sound of the nurse dropping it off but he was pleased that it hadn't woken John either.

A few moments after seeing the breakfast tray, Sherlock realized that John was due to start work very soon. He sent a quick text to Mycroft asking him to get one of the doctors, Dr. Carry, to cover for John. Sherlock knew that Dr. Carry liked John a lot and would cover for him if she thought it was a chance to finally get John to notice her. Sherlock knew that John wouldn't approve of Sherlock using Dr. Carry's crush on him to get her to cover his shift but at least John would get to rest.

Sherlock got a reply from Mycroft a few minutes later saying that it was taken care of. What Mycroft didn't ask was why Doctor Watson's shift needed covering in the first place, he really didn't want to know, he just hoped the Doctor Watson was alright.

John was still sound asleep when lunch was brought in by the nurse, his hand still in Sherlock's. She placed the tray beside his bed and left but Sherlock noticed the confused look on her face when she'd seen Doctor Watson asleep beside him holding his patient's hand.

Dr. Carry was the next person to walk in a few hours later, looking down at some notes in her hand. She stopped short, dropping the folder she'd been carrying when she noticed Doctor Watson asleep, holding his patients hand.

The sound of the folder hitting the ground was enough to wake John from his long sleep. He opened his eyes, quickly realizing that he wasn't in his own bed (or his office) and that his hand felt oddly warm. He quickly remembered what had happened as the events of the night before came flooding back. He blushed a dark shade of red and sat up a bit straighter, groaning because of his sore back due to having slept on a chair.

It was then that Sherlock noticed that John had woken up. He'd been too busy trying to get Doctor Carry to be quiet and leave so she didn't wake John but she kept insisting that she had to do her rounds and check on her patients. Unfortunately for Sherlock that included him since she had taken over John's shift and patients for the day.

"John, how are you feeling?" questioned Sherlock, looking at John with concern, something Sherlock wasn't used to feeling.

"I'm fine, although sleeping in this chair was probably not the best idea. How long was I out?" asked John, finally removing his hand from Sherlock's and blushing again.

"It's past noon so you had a decent sleep, I didn't want to wake you since you'd been so exhausted recently," replied Sherlock, and it was his turn to blush at revealing that he'd actually thought of someone else beside himself.

"Dammit," said John, quickly standing up, "I've missed most of my shift."

He'd failed to notice Doctor Carry was in the room and she had been observing their conversation with confusion. It was true that she had a crush on the doctor and had only taken his shift in the hopes that he'd finally notice her but she could tell now that she didn't stand a chance with him, not when he was looking at Mr Holmes like that.

"Don't worry Doctor Watson, I covered your shift," said Doctor Carry, deciding to enter the conversation.

"Oh, thank you and I'm sorry, it was unprofessional of me to fall asleep in a patients room and requiring another doctor cover my shift," replied John, getting up and limping around Sherlock's bed to stand in front of Doctor Carry.

"Don't worry about it, I know you've been tired lately, you needed the rest. Anyway, I better get back to work, I still have other patients to see," she replied, moving to step around John and towards Sherlock.

"I can check on Sherlock and you can get back to the other patients if you want? I don't want you behind schedule," said John, picking up Sherlock's chart and moving to his bedside without waiting for a response.

"Ahh… sure I guess that's fine, thanks, umm…bye," replied Doctor Carry, and after hesitating she turned around and quickly left the room.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come here last night, it was very unprofessional of me," said John, picking up Sherlock's chart.

"John, it was fine, you were upset and I'd rather you'd come here than sit alone all night upset. Plus you got to have a proper rest which is what you needed," replied Sherlock, blushing again once he realized he was showing how much he cared.

"You can tell me that I need sleep but I can't tell you that you do too? That's hardly fair," questioned John, a smile lighting his face which caused Sherlock to mirror his expression.

"Yes I can. And now I'm going to tell you again. You should go home and get some more rest, that chair can't have been comfortable and you want to be well rested for work tomorrow," Sherlock answered, his expression and tone showing how serious he was being.

John looked like he was about to argue but thought better of it.

He checked Sherlock's bandages and stitches and was glad to find they were still intact and there were no signs of infection.

"Everything's looking good," said John, changing from friend to doctor instantly, and just as quickly he changed back to friend, a smile on his face as he continued, "seems as if staying in bed is doing you some good."

"You don't need to say I told you so, I know I need to rest to heal, it's just so boring," replied Sherlock, and he kept a straight face while speaking but he couldn't hold it any longer and he smiled back at John.

"I better get going now then if I'm to be back to see you tomorrow morning before my shift, as promised," said John, still smiling at the fact that Sherlock actually wanted to spend time with him and then he realized that if he left now he wouldn't be at the hospital to have dinner with him.

"Don't worry, I'm sure I can survive one night without having dinner with you," said Sherlock, chuckling at the surprised look on John's face as Sherlock had just read his mind.

"I still don't know how you do that, it'll never cease to amaze me," John replied, while shaking his head slightly and chuckling in return.

Sherlock just blushed at the compliment as he wasn't used to receiving them.

"Goodbye Sherlock, and umm… thanks for last night," John was sure that he'd never stop blushing around this man from the number of times he had already.

Sherlock just nodded as John turned and limped out and they both couldn't suppress the smile that was plastered on both of their faces.

Sherlock just sat back in his bed after John had left and he still couldn't keep the smile off his face. He was glad that John had trusted him enough to see him like that, at his most vulnerable. It showed that he trusted Sherlock greatly and there was hope that one day they could be more than friends.

Sherlock still hadn't forgotten his plan to get John to move him with him. While Sherlock did know that people don't normally do that, move in with people they'd known for less than a week, but Sherlock felt that he and John would be an exception to that rule. They'd become fast friends and for some reason he trusted John, even if he hardly knew him and it seemed that John trusted him too.

Whether they were actually in a relationship or not (the idea of a relationship terrified Sherlock as he'd never really been close to anyone before but that didn't mean he wasn't willing to give it a go), he still wanted John to move in with him, even if they were just flat mates (but he of course hoped they were more). John was his friend and he just wanted his friend to be happy. He'd seen how unhappy John was but for some reason that seemed to change when he was around Sherlock, he always seemed happier. If they were living together, maybe Sherlock could make that change more permanent.

That was one reason Sherlock wanted John to move in with him, maybe it'd make him happy, the other reason was a lot more selfish.

Sherlock realized then that he'd need outside advice if he was really serious about convincing John to move in with him so he texted the only person he could think of that might actually be able to help him.

_Come to the hospital immediately, don't tell Mycroft – SH_

_I'll drop by after work and this better not be about any cases because you know you can't have any – GL_

Sherlock was satisfied with response he'd received and smiled to himself. If anyone could help him, it was Lestrade. The DI had had one Holmes profess their love for him and asked him on a date and he'd said yes so maybe Lestrade had some advice on how Sherlock could do it. And that's what he was doing, that was the other reason, the selfish one, Sherlock was in love with John, he just had to figure out a way to tell him.

* * *

AN: I hope you enjoyed it. Thanks for reading and don't forget to review :). Next chapter, Sherlock's discussion with Lestrade, what will he have to say?


	9. Chapter 9

So, I suck at updating, I'm sorry. If you think I'm taking too long to update just PM me to let me know there are people who actually want more and to motivate me to get it written.

Can't promise when next chapter will be up but it won't be as long a wait as last time!

Enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the characters. They belong to BBC and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

* * *

It wasn't long after dinner, which Sherlock had surprisingly eaten over half of, that the DI turned up in Sherlock's room.

"What do you want Sherlock? I haven't got long, Mycroft will wonder where I am," said Lestrade, unsure why he was actually here.

"I need your advice," replied Sherlock, getting straight to the point.

"From me?" asked Lestrade, that wasn't what he had been expecting, "Why me?"

"You are the most qualified for the help I require," replied Sherlock, looking intently at the detective.

"And what help is that?" asked Lestrade, curious now as to how he could help Sherlock.

"It's about John," said Sherlock.

"John?" asked the DI, and then a conversation he'd had with Mycroft entered his mind and he realized who Sherlock was talking about. "You're doctor, right?"

"What exactly did Mycroft tell you about him?" asked Sherlock, already knowing that Mycroft would've mentioned his doctor to Lestrade.

"Just that he was an interesting man to have caught your interest, like no one else ever has before," replied Lestrade. "So, what exactly do you need my help with?"

"I don't know what to do," mumbled Sherlock, not liking to admit that there was something he didn't know.

"About?" Lestrade prompted, even more curious now as to why Sherlock was acting this way.

"John," replied Sherlock, confused about why Lestrade didn't know what he was talking about.

"I'm going to need you to elaborate Sherlock, we're not all geniuses like you," replied Lestrade.

Sherlock knew that Lestrade would need more information than what he was giving him, he just didn't want to say it out loud. He'd spent so long being disgusted by Lestrade and his relationship with Mycroft, and now here he was, asking for help, because he wanted to be in a relationship of his own.

"I...I like him," whispered Sherlock, not telling the whole truth but at least part of it, "and he's so sad, I just want to make him happy. I was thinking of asking him to move in with me, to take the spare room in the flat. He seems happier with me, so I always want to see him like that. But I just don't know how to do that."

Lestrade was rather shocked to hear him actually admit all this out loud. He had been skeptical when first hearing Mycroft talk about this mystery man that Sherlock had seemed to have taken a liking to. And seeing Sherlock's face when he arrived in his room today, he'd started to believe what Mycroft had said. But he didn't think Sherlock liked him enough to actually want to live with him.

"Is that all you want though Sherlock? Just to live with him? Or do you want more?" asked Lestrade, not believing from how Sherlock was acting that Sherlock's feelings were just platonic.

"I don't want to ruin our friendship. I want to be with him though, even if we are just friends, I want to be with him."

"You love him, don't you?" asked Lestrade, a smile spreading across his face as he noticed that blush that spread across Sherlock's cheeks.

"No...I...I don't..." Sherlock trailed off, still blushing.

"So you do. Okay, so what do you want to do about it? I assume that's why you asked me here. I've had experience with one Holmes declaring their love for me and you want advice on how to do that to John."

Sherlock didn't even bother denying it. Although, that was only partly why he wanted to talk to Lestrade.

"That's not it entirely, I want to know whether it is a good idea or not?" Sherlock asked.

"What do you mean, why wouldn't it be a good idea?" asked Lestrade.

"I'm afraid I'll scare him off if I tell him. I want us to remain friends once I'm discharged. I can't imagine what life would be like without him in it," replied Sherlock, embarrassed at having to admit these sorts of things to Lestrade. But since he needed his help, he had to tell him.

Lestrade was again shocked by how deeply Sherlock appeared to feel for a man he'd known for only a few days.

"He seems to have some feelings for you in return, judging by what I've heard about him so far, don't forget that. But my advice to you, talk to him. Ask him to move in with you. You don't have to do it straight away but if you think it will make him happy, then go for it. You can tell him your feelings for him in time, once you've gotten to know him a bit better. Maybe ask him out on a date? Tell him you want to stay in contact with him once you leave. Whatever you do Sherlock, make sure he knows that you aren't going to leave him behind when you leave. From what I've heard it sounds like he needs you just like you seem to need him too," said Lestrade, hoping that what he'd just said would help Sherlock.

Lestrade's phone beeped just as he finished his little speech.

_Will you be home for dinner? – MH_

"Sorry Sherlock, it's your brother. I've got to go but text me if you need anything."

"Thank you," replied Sherlock, and Lestrade smiled and nodded in return as he left.

Now Sherlock was left with a lot to think about, and he only had tonight to do so as John would be back in the morning for his shift. He was already looking forward to seeing him even though he'd seen him a few hours previously. He was actually beginning to understand what it was like to miss someone who wasn't around. He'd never felt that before, not for anyone. And now here he was, missing John. Missing his voice, the warmth he seemed to bring into a room with him, his smile, his hideous jumpers that could be seen beneath his lab coat. Sherlock missed everything about him and couldn't wait to see him in the morning.

He spent until the early hours of the morning thinking about what to do next after hearing Lestrade's advice. He finally decided what he was going to do; he was going to ask John to move in with him. He would wait to tell John his feelings but he was running out of days that he would be around John. He thought it best to ask John to move in with him while he was still here. He could see how unhappy John was now and he hoped that getting him to move in with him would help change that, so the sooner he asked him, the better.

It was past 3am when Sherlock had finally worked out what he was going to do so he thought it best to at least get a few hours sleep before John arrived in the morning. He closed his eyes and pictured John as he drifted off to sleep, eagerly anticipating the morning.

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AN: I hope you enjoyed it. Thanks for reading and don't forget to review :) Next chapter, what's Sherlock going to say to John and how will John respond?


	10. Chapter 10

Because you guys are awesome and I got so much support for the last chapter, here is another one :)

Sorry.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the characters. They belong to BBC and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

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Sherlock had just woken up when John entered his room the next morning. Sherlock was glad that John had kept his promise from a couple of days ago to come and visit him.

"How're you feeling?" asked John, as he reached Sherlock's bedside.

"I could ask you the same thing," replied Sherlock, smiling up at him, his pulse racing due to his close proximity to John.

Just then, Sherlock's breakfast was brought in, forcing John to step back and check Sherlock's wound to make sure everything was okay. The nurse set the tray down and quickly left, leaving John and Sherlock alone in the room again.

This was it. This was Sherlock's moment to say it, to say the speech he had planned last night. After all that time thinking, he'd planned out exactly what he was going to say and knew it word for word.

But Sherlock froze. He just couldn't get the words out. This had never happened to him before. He wasn't used to the funny feeling that was now in his stomach and his pulse was now racing for entirely different reasons.

And before Sherlock knew it, John had left, telling him to eat his breakfast and that he'd be back later.

When John came back after lunch, then same thing happened; Sherlock just couldn't get the words out that he wanted too. He was too nervous of rejection and that he may scare John away. He didn't want his John to go anywhere.

By dinner time, Sherlock was getting angry with himself. Why couldn't he just say what he wanted and get it over with? But it was no use, he just couldn't say the words out loud. He even tried rewriting his speech but that didn't work either.

John had noticed something was off about Sherlock but when he asked him, Sherlock just avoided the question and changed the subject.

By the time John left after dinner that night, Sherlock was a wreck. He still couldn't believe that he, Sherlock Holmes, had been unable to do something as simple as ask a question. He'd never been this afraid before to hear the answer, and that is what was stopping him.

The next day the same thing happened. Whenever the chance arose for Sherlock to say something, he'd freeze and then say something else. By the end of the day he was furious with himself at the countless opportunities he'd missed.

He was getting worried now. He'd been trying for two days and couldn't say a thing. Tomorrow was his seventh and final day at the hospital, he was being discharged tomorrow afternoon. He had to say something before he left or else he'd regret it. He couldn't just leave his John here by himself.

XoXoX

It was his final day. He'd already seen John this morning and even though he was smiling, Sherlock could see the sadness in his eyes. That should've been enough for Sherlock to say something but it wasn't. As much as it hurt him to see that look in John's eyes, and it did, it hurt him more than he ever thought was possible, he still couldn't say anything.

John was just doing his final check up of Sherlock before he could sign the papers discharging him from the hospital. John was saying something about changing the bandages and about not getting the wound infected but Sherlock wasn't listening, he was too busy trying to figure out some way to say what he'd been trying to for the last few days. But it was no use. John had said his goodbyes and was out the door before Sherlock could reply. Sherlock could tell what John was doing, trying to distance himself from Sherlock so him leaving wouldn't hurt so much. And Sherlock thought maybe he should let him. As much as it hurt, maybe John would be better off without Sherlock. Maybe he would meet a nice, pretty doctor and they'd get married and have 2.5 kids and John would be happy and he wouldn't need Sherlock. And that's what stopped Sherlock calling out to John as he left. He thought John would be happier without him.

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AN: I hope you enjoyed it. Thanks for reading and don't forget to review :) Next chapter, John's point of view!


	11. Chapter 11

Woohoo, three chapters in a row! Here's John's point of view of the previous chapter.

Next chapter is going to take a bit longer. Don't forget you can PM me if you think I've forgotten or I'm taking to long :)

Sorry again.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the characters. They belong to BBC and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

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John was a bit nervous arriving at the hospital this morning. He didn't want there to be any weirdness between him and Sherlock after the events of yesterday. He needn't have worried though; he'd walked in, asking Sherlock how he was and Sherlock had asked him the same thing in return, already joking about the events from the previous day. John felt himself relax a bit as he was checking Sherlock's bandages, although, his heart was beating quite rapidly due to how close he was standing to Sherlock.

"I'll be back after lunch," said John, as he had to leave as his shift was about to start, "and don't forget to eat your breakfast."

John started noticing something was different about Sherlock both during his afternoon shift and when he saw him during dinner.

"Are you okay?" John asked, not really expecting an answer from Sherlock but hoping he'd get one.

Sherlock just dismissed the question and went back to talking about the case he had been describing to John.

The next day was the same. Sherlock seemed mostly normal but then John would notice a look he got, as if Sherlock had something to say or had something really important on his mind. But the look would be there and gone in a second, leaving John to question if he ever say it in the first place.

John knew that Sherlock was meant to be discharged tomorrow and he was starting to worry. Sherlock had made him happy in the week since they'd met and John hoped that they'd continue to be friends once Sherlock was no longer his patient.

And then it hit John. What if that was it? What if that was what Sherlock had been trying to say? Sherlock didn't want to continue being friends. He'd grown bored of John but didn't know how to tell him. Sherlock didn't seem the type to not say something because it would hurt someone's feelings. But Sherlock had seen him at his most vulnerable. And maybe by just leaving tomorrow and not saying anything to John, it was kinder than saying anything at all. Sherlock was for once keeping his mouth shut and thinking of others. John should have been proud of him for that but it hurt that he was doing it for him. It was like he both cared and didn't care at the same time. John had wondered why Sherlock had taken an interest in him and it turned out he hadn't, he was just a distraction for the week while he was in hospital.

XoXoX

John was doing his final check of Sherlock before he could be discharged. He wanted to say something, he really did. Maybe ask Sherlock out for coffee, or just for his number? Anything. Anything that would mean John still got to see Sherlock. But he was too afraid that his thoughts from the previous day were correct. He was afraid that Sherlock had lost interest in him and didn't want to see him again. If Sherlock wanted to continue their friendship he'd say something, right?

John still couldn't help how his heart rate increased while being this close to Sherlock. While last time he'd felt butterflies in his stomach, this time he just felt a nearly suffocating pain in his chest. He couldn't believe he'd gotten so attached to this man in less than a week. Granted, he was a pretty exceptional man, but he was still surprised at the strength of his feelings for him.

He didn't want to be around Sherlock anymore, not feeling like this. He quickly said goodbye, reminding Sherlock to take his antibiotics to stop his wound getting infected and then he left. His leg was throbbing and he couldn't wait until his shift was over. He couldn't wait to go home and try to forget about the great Sherlock Holmes.

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AN: I hope you enjoyed it. Thanks for reading and don't forget to review :) Next chapter, you'll just have to wait and see!


	12. Chapter 12

I didn't mean to write this so quickly but I did so enjoy!

And don't forget to review :)

Also, I know nothing about hospitals or that sort of thing so if there are any inaccuracies I'm sorry.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the characters. They belong to BBC and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

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John got to work even earlier the next morning. He had no reason to since Sherlock was no longer there, but he didn't want to be alone at home anymore. He'd barely slept the previous night and he couldn't get Sherlock off his mind. He was sitting at his desk filling out some paperwork when there was a knock at his door. He opened it to find a stressed looking nurse standing on the other side.

"Thank goodness you're here, we need your help. Sherlock was brought in about an hour ago but he's refusing treatment from anyone but you. He keeps asking for his John; took us a while to figure out he was talking about you," said the nurse.

"Lead the way," replied John, cane in hand as he followed the nurse to Sherlock.

As soon as John saw Sherlock, he knew something was wrong. He had blood running down the side of his face and he had cuts on his hands.

"John!" Sherlock exclaimed, rushing to John as soon as he'd seen him and throwing his arms around him in a bone crushing hug. It was a miracle that John managed to stay upright.

Sherlock pulled back to grin widely down at John, who was still in his arms.

"Come on then, let's get you looked at," said John, as he lead Sherlock back over to the bed he'd been sitting on, smiling kindly up at Sherlock.

John had to tell a bunch of nurses to get back to work as they'd all stopped what they'd been doing to watch and giggle at John and his overly cuddly patient.

"What's wrong with him?" John asked, speaking to the doctor who had previously been trying to treat Sherlock.

"It looks as if the drugs that the paramedics gave him reacted with the antibiotics he's taking," replied the doctor, looking from John back to the grinning man who had taken a seat back on the bed. The doctor had other patients to see so he left, leaving John to treat Sherlock.

John turned back to Sherlock who was still grinning down at him. John smiled back; he was just happy to see Sherlock again and even though it could've been under better circumstances, he was glad that Sherlock hadn't been too badly injured.

XoXoX

John made quick work of cleaning up and bandaging Sherlock's hands as well as the small wound on his head. He also checked the wound in Sherlock's chest and was glad that he hadn't made that worse.

"Excuse me," someone said, causing John to turn towards the person who had spoken, "you must be John, I'm Detective Inspector Lestrade."

"Hi, yes, how can I help you?" John asked, assuming that the detective was here about whatever had happened to Sherlock.

"I just wanted to make sure Sherlock was okay," said Lestrade, "and was hoping to get Sherlock's statement if he was up for it."

"Sorry, I don't think you'll get anything out of him at the moment," replied John, nodding his head towards Sherlock who was currently trying to steal a pen from John's pocket. "Do you mind if I ask what happened?"

"I apprehended the accomplice of the knight who stabbed me," Sherlock proudly stated, still beaming like a five year old on Christmas morning.

"After we told him to let us handle it," said Lestrade, shaking his head disapprovingly at Sherlock, "but he never listens and usually ends up getting hurt in the process."

"I couldn't let him get away, and you would have never have caught him, that's why I had to step in and do your job for you," said Sherlock, no longer grinning like before but now trying to steal the second pen from John's coat after already taking the first.

"Sherlock, be nice," John reprimanded, which resulted in a mumbled apology to Lestrade from Sherlock.

Lestrade couldn't remember the last time he'd heard Sherlock apologize for anything and was impressed that this man had got him to by just saying three words. He had to get back to work so he said goodbye to Sherlock and John, telling Sherlock he'd get his statement off him later.

John thought it best that he take Sherlock home himself before his shift started. Sherlock didn't need to stay any longer because his cuts were bandaged and the best thing for him now would be to go home and sleep until the medication wore off.

"We should get you home Sherlock, there's no reason you need to stay here," said John, taking the two pens that were now in Sherlock's hand and placing them back in his pocket.

Sherlock stood abruptly, swaying on his feet a bit which resulted in John putting his arm around Sherlock's back to steady him. Sherlock then wrapped his arm around John's shoulder, holding him close as they made their way towards the lift. John didn't even realize he was no longer carrying his cane which he had put down in favour of taking care of Sherlock.

Getting Sherlock down the lift and out of the hospital was a bit of a struggle, mostly due to Sherlock's fascination with everything they seemed to pass. It was as if Sherlock had to look at every single thing he could see as they made their way out of the hospital. Once outside, John managed to hail a cab and got Sherlock to give the cabbie his address.

John found Sherlock's keys in his pocket and got the door open once they had arrived at 221B Baker Street. Getting Sherlock up the stairs to his flat was probably the most difficult part of the journey, as Sherlock seemed to have decided that it would be funny to put as much of his weight on John as he could, meaning John had to basically drag him up the stairs.

Sherlock pointed to his room once in the flat, through the kitchen and down the hall, and John was relieved when he'd finally gotten Sherlock through the door and onto the bed. Sherlock just curled up, not even bothering to take off his coat or shoes. John removed his shoes for him but, after attempting to remove his coat and deeming it too difficult, he quietly exited the room and let Sherlock sleep. It was then that he realized that he no longer had his cane with him, but that didn't matter since his leg was barely sore as he made his way back to the hospital to finish his shift.

He didn't know if he'd ever see Sherlock again after the events of this morning. Seeing him again only made it worse since Sherlock had probably only been acting that way because of the medication and probably wouldn't even remember what had happened when he woke up.

Now, whenever John would close his eyes, he'd see the grinning face of Sherlock looking back at him and he felt a stab of pain in his chest as he realized he may never see that smile again.

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AN: I hope you enjoyed it. Thanks for reading and don't forget to review :) Next chapter, hopefully one of them will finally see sense!


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